A poetic exploration of middle-grade values.Newbery Medalist Park presents a provocative collection of narrative poems inspired by sijo, a 14th-century Korean syllabic verse form. Teacher Ms. Chang poses to her class a variation of the timeless desert-island question: "Imagine that your home is on fire," and, while family and pets are spared, "you're allowed to save one thing." Chang's students react well to this "good homework," sharing with their classmates a multitude of objects they'd protect from the hypothetical flames. Some choose eminently practical items like a cellphone ("somebody's gotta call 9-1-1, right?") and "MY DAD'S WALLET. DUH" (because "if a fire burns everything up, you're gonna need money. A lot"). Other treasures reflect differing levels of maturity and self- involvement: a mother's insulin kit, a rug to smother flames, sneakers like "Jeremy Lin wore when he scored thirty-eight points / against the Lakers" and for which the student had saved pennies for months, a "muddy blue" sweater May's father's mother had knit for her father that her other grandmother then unraveled and reknit for her. Coupled with debut illustrator Sae-Heng's accessible grayscale sketches of the objects, often in situ, Park's subjects' mementos offer middle-grade readers much food for thought regarding what one values and how others can touch one's life. Names and other details indicate a diverse class. A note on sijo concludes the volume.Park's extended rumination has the power to bring us home. (Verse fiction. 8-12)

Newbery Medalist Park captures the unique voices of a middle-grade classroom in her latest book inspired by traditional Korean sijo poetry. Ms. Chang has an assignment for each of her students: there's an emergency at home fire d you're only allowed to save one object. Pets and family are safe. What follows is a lively dialogue of diverse children's voices, full of humor and emotion, about the objects they choose to save. They run the gamut from the practical, like cell phones and laptops, to those with deeper meaning, like a locket of hair from a baby brother who died at age four. This is not Park's first sijo-inspired book, and an author's note at the end gives more information about the poetic structure. This is Sae-Heng's debut as an illustrator, and his quaint black-and-white drawings convey a deeper understanding of each object's place in the child's heart. Questions Asked (2017), by Jostein Gaarder, is another introspective book that poses meaningful questions about life to young readers.

Ms. Chang has asked her students to think about what one thing they would save -- beyond their families and pets -- if their homes were on fire. "Your Most Important Thing. Any size. A grand piano? Fine." What follows is a series of poems, inspired by an ancient form of traditional Korean poetry called sijo, that capture the voices of the kids in the class as they ponder and discuss, argue, defend their choices, and sometimes change their minds. Their most important possessions range from the obvious ("My dad's wallet. Duh") and humorous (cool sneakers -- "I put those babies on my feet, it's like, see ya later, fire") to the altruistic (grabbing a mother's insulin kit) and the aspirational (a bedroom rug to help folks in the building "Stop, Drop, and Roll"). Ms. Chang reminds the kids what to do in a real emergency, and that they all must "Protect, Affect, Respect One Another!" in class, but she also joins in the conversation and is deeply moved by their astute suggestions and profound revelations. Sae-Heng's lovely graphic-style grayscale drawings grace every page and reflect an inclusive, modern urban landscape and school setting. This is an ode to learning with a savvy and caring educator who knows how to build community and empathy by having students share their stories and who joins in their exercises (and is even convinced to change her mind). Luann Toth

A poetic exploration of middle-grade values.Newbery Medalist Park presents a provocative collection of narrative poems inspired by sijo, a 14th-century Korean syllabic verse form. Teacher Ms. Chang poses to her class a variation of the timeless desert-island question: "Imagine that your home is on fire," and, while family and pets are spared, "you're allowed to save one thing." Chang's students react well to this "good homework," sharing with their classmates a multitude of objects they'd protect from the hypothetical flames. Some choose eminently practical items like a cellphone ("somebody's gotta call 9-1-1, right?") and "MY DAD'S WALLET. DUH" (because "if a fire burns everything up, you're gonna need money. A lot"). Other treasures reflect differing levels of maturity and self- involvement: a mother's insulin kit, a rug to smother flames, sneakers like "Jeremy Lin wore when he scored thirty-eight points / against the Lakers" and for which the student had saved pennies for months, a "muddy blue" sweater May's father's mother had knit for her father that her other grandmother then unraveled and reknit for her. Coupled with debut illustrator Sae-Heng's accessible grayscale sketches of the objects, often in situ, Park's subjects' mementos offer middle-grade readers much food for thought regarding what one values and how others can touch one's life. Names and other details indicate a diverse class. A note on sijo concludes the volume.Park's extended rumination has the power to bring us home. (Verse fiction. 8-12)

In a classroom, teacher Ms. Chang poses a premise: -Imagine that your home is on fire. You-re allowed to save one thing./ Your family and pets are safe, so don-t worry about them./ Your Most Important Thing. Any size.- The students respond-some share, others contemplate privately-traversing a wide terrain, including the practical (-MY DAD-S WALLET. DUH-) and deeply personal remembrances. One child reflects silently about their -total dump- of a home (-Be glad to see it burn down-), while another secretly recalls escaping an actual burning building: -The only thing you worry about saving is your own sorry skin.- Readers may not realize that the volume is a collection of poems until they read Park-s closing note, which explains her inspiration: traditional Korean sijo verse, which consists of three lines of 13 to 17 syllables and is sometimes broken into six shorter lines. This relatively flexible structure creates a rhythmic variety of declarations, reflections, interjections, and occasional dialogue employed throughout, complemented by Sae-Heng-s gray-toned, sketchlike illustrations. While each child-s voice isn-t entirely distinct, the class-s camaraderie and caring spirit comes through clearly, poised to inspire thoughtful classroom discussion. Ages 8-12. (Mar.)